More than three hundred years after the most terrifying witch hunts the world has ever known, it's happening again.

Racing from attack by the ruthless Brotherhood in London to the powerful witch council in New York, twenty-four-year-old novice witch Stella has to put her faith in strangers just to stay alive but she might not be any safer in their midst than from the danger she is running from.

Sent to an extraordinary safe house by the sea to learn her craft, Stella finds there is more than one dark secret in her new family: Étoile’s sister is spoken of in fear and sadness; Marc is supposed to be a powerful witch but is missing his magic; where does the owner of their safe house vanish to every day and why does Evan have the eyes of someone not quite human? There is only one secret that someone will do anything to keep quiet, but whose secret is it and will Stella have to pay the price for silence?

Book Excerpt:

The man filling the doorway was at least six foot two with broad shoulders that tapered to a neat waist and long jeaned legs. Toned arms extended from under a grey t-shirt and his hands didn’t look like strangers to work. As my eyes travelled up from his chest I noted a tanned, square jaw that hadn’t seen a razor in a day or two, a slim nose and brown eyes so dark I could barely distinguish iris from pupil. His hair was cut short and so dark it could almost have been black. He wasn’t beautiful in the traditional sense but he was captivating, the type of man people automatically turn their heads to have another look at. I couldn’t drag my eyes away and my heart did a little flip.

A fleeting image of being wrapped up in his arms, his lips crushing mine, echoed through my mind. He caught my eye and held my gaze. I was glad he couldn’t see inside my mind, but I blushed furiously. His face looked thunderous. And now, come to think of it, Marc didn’t exactly look happy either.

“This is her?” he asked no one in particular, his eyes still fixed on me, his expression fading from thunder to completely impassive.

“Stella,” I spluttered, my cheeks still red as the image in my head seemed to topple over and feature us sprawling, limbs entwined. Was I supposed to shake his hand now? Good God. “Hi.”

Étoile looked from me to Evan and coughed lightly, her hand
covering a smile and I had just time to wonder what she had seen before she said, “Evan will be teaching you.”

“I will not,’ said Evan, his mouth set in a firm line. “She leaks. Find someone else.”

“David could teach her,” snapped Marc, scowling at Evan, the muscles in his arm had tensed though he was still sitting and I could see the veins bulge. What was with him?

If silence could have deafened us, it would have. Marc scowled at Evan, Evan looked thunderously at me and I gripped my glass as if it was a life rope in a storm. Étoile finished up her second scone and looked around gleefully as if we were the height of entertainment. Meanwhile, my mind was getting increasingly lurid and I could hardly look Evan in the eye for fear that he would know that I’d just had a very exciting mental picture of us doing something that really should not have popped into my head while I was having a civilised scone with company.

“If you don’t want to teach me, fine,” I gasped, daring to look at Evan from under

my lashes. Marc had leant back in his seat, arms crossed; Meg and Étoile were still looking at the man expectantly. Étoile coughed, but not before I had her snicker again.

His jaw shifted and he breathed out. “I’ll teach you,” he said at last, making it sound like the least pleasant chore he could be landed with.

“Okay.”

“Fine.” Evan stepped back out of the doorway and stalked back the way he came.

“Whew!” said Étoile. “That was weird. Like he was ever not going to teach you.”

“He’s an ass,” muttered Marc, swallowing the last of his iced tea and banging the glass back down on the table. “I’m sorry you’re stuck with him.”

“Evan Hunter is a very good teacher,” Aunt Meg chided as she gathered up the plates and swatted Étoile’s hand from the cake stand with a napkin as she reached for another scone. I noticed Aunt Meg hadn’t eaten or drank anything and hoped she didn’t think I was greedy for gobbling mine as fast as I could.

“What did he mean – I leaked?” I asked, thinking that sounded, well, gross.

“Your magic,” said Étoile. “He can feel it. So can I. You aren’t containing it, so it leaks. Not your fault.”

About The Author:

Hi, I'm Camilla and I'm the author of Illicit Magic and Unruly Magic, the first two books in the Stella Mayweather Paranormal Series. The series starts with a lonely young woman, Stella, who has been caught up in a terrifying witch hunt and is whisked thousands of miles away to what she thinks is safety to learn her craft. The series is a blend of magic, mystery and romance with a splash of humour - and while the girls really do go all out to save themselves, there's always a hunky guy or two on hand to help them out.

I live in London, UK but I try to travel as often as I can - lately I've been to Paris, all over Denmark, Luxembourg, and several US states. In my day job I'm a journalist and editor so I write for magazines, newspapers and websites throughout the world (my favourite assignment was spending a week riding rollercoasters - if you listen carefully you can probably still hear me screaming).

Make sure you check out the next stop on the tour, which is, It’s All About Books http://bacaan-ally.blogspot.com and don't forget about the giveaway at the end of the tour.

Thank you to Meghan and Mysteriousrose
Thank you to Nadea
Thank you to Vampirique Dezire
Thank you to Belinda
Thank you to Jessica,Genna and Selena
Thanks so much to Selena at The Enchanted Book .
Thank you to Theresa,Barb,aobibliosphere,Cat,Genna and Jessica!